


To Live Without Fear

by junhoism



Series: big reputation, big reputations [2]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Athletes, Bad Blood, Friends to Enemies to Friends, M/M, boxing champion!jihoon, olympic archer!jinyoung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15464505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junhoism/pseuds/junhoism
Summary: Jinyoung never wanted this reunion (or so he says), but Jihoon's manager could be persuasive when he wanted to be. Which was exactly why Jinyoung was blatantly asking Jihoon to beat him up in the ring at 4am in the morning ahead of his Olympic training.(the athletes!au where it only takes 3 phone calls for winkdeep to fall in love.)





	To Live Without Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juujuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juujuu/gifts).



> sorry, miss juujuu, you deserve better but this is all i have for now. thank u for always supporting me. ♡ // now you - gjan.

**** Sometimes, people say love is friendship that has caught on fire. Not for Jinyoung and Jihoon, though, whose friendship fizzled and burnt out before any other developments could take place. 

“Not that anything would have happened,” Bae Jinyoung clarifies when Daehwi asks. 

**_Bae Jinyoung and Park Jihoon are at war behind the scenes_ ** , Dispatch says,  **_you heard it here first!_ **

That headline comes months after their first reunion, so Jinyoung merely scoffs and turns the page. 

But first, onto more pressing matters. 

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

“Bae Jinyoung, Korea’s ‘Hawkeye’, It Boy and now Olympic gold medalist, and current number one archer in the world. How’s that?”    
  
“I prefer Katniss Everdeen since she actually got her own movie, but whatever.” Jinyoung says, turning up his treadmill speed as Daehwi types away beside him. 

“Shut up,” Daehwi huffs. “Hawkeye has a better ring to it, okay?”    
  
“You shut up and update my Wikipedia page.”    
  
“Yes, sir,” Daehwi says sarcastically. “Keep running, bitch.”    
  
“Nice, metaphorical and literal jab. You keep learning, kid. Now if only you could apply that to your shooting game.” 

“Do you want your Wikipedia page updated or not?” Daehwi asks, taking his hands off the keyboard. Jinyoung almost misses a step and flicks his hands, bowing best he can while running. “I don’t understand why you gotta make  _ me _ do this. You usually write your own biography.” 

“A king needs a scribe.”    
  
“Usually because the king is an illiterate bitch.” 

Jinyoung actually stops running at that, pressing buttons and turning the treadmill off. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve gotten me off.”    
  
Daehwi wrinkles his nose, shutting his laptop closed. “Now  _ you’ve _ done it, you dirty fucker. Why do you have to make everything sound like a euphemism?” He gets up, ignoring Jinyoung’s shout of  _ where are you going, my scribe? _ , sauntering off. “Write your own story, bitch. I’ll see you tomorrow when I actually have to do something I’m paid to do.”

“Come back! Management isn’t letting me touch social media anymore and you’re all I have!” Jinyoung watches as Daehwi waves him off and pouts. “That little bitch,” he turns and seethes, “Just he wait until I get my accounts back. I’m gonna shade him so much he won’t even know what a parasol is for.” 

He pulls out his phone, typing a message away furiously until a call interrupts his frenzy. It reads Unknown, but Jinyoung has always been a sucker for mysteries. He presses  _ accept _ , and presses the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

  
  
  
  


 

Jinyoung doesn't jog at 4am in the morning. The nature of training as an Olympic archer requires him to shoot arrows for 10 hours, not run around at ungodly hours or do weightlifting. Sure, he had to keep his upper body fit and make sure he has full control over his fingers, not letting a single tremor hinder the perfect shot from taking place. But he could take a night away from rest, this he could guarantee. 

If not, well, he was willing to gamble.

His gamble leads him to a dark abandoned barn-looking structure. He’s wary, but he sees a dim light and opens the door slightly. The entire situation, from the mysterious phone call right when he’s alone, to the odd-hour meet up, makes him feel like the main character of a thriller film. If it’s the way he goes, then so be it, it’s a fucking cool way to die. 

The barn’s interior has a boxing ring, with lights hung from the ceiling and training equipment littered around the spacious place. The boxing ring stands elevated in the middle of the room, and while Jinyoung has entered the area, he’s far from it. He sees a person in a sleeveless shirt wearing bright red gloves, punching the standing punching bag like he wasn’t preparing for any fights. 

He knows better. Even with such muted lighting, Jinyoung could recognize that face from a mile away. He keeps in mind exactly what he was here for, was invited and he consented to this meeting. Yet even by catching a glimpse of Park Jihoon’s side profile, his restraint wavers, and his blood starts boiling. 

 

Fucking Park Jihoon. Returning to Korea after a three-year stay in Japan for ‘training’, thinks he’s a star? 

 

Jinyoung approaches the ring slowly, taking time in his steps and deliberating every word he was about to say. He waited three years for an opportunity he did not even know was about to fall into his lap. Now that it’s here, he can’t waste it, yet he can’t wait to say everything. Jihoon remains focused on the steady rhythm he created. One, two, duck, one, two, duck. He doesn’t even notice Jinyoung behind him, sitting on a bench. 

It’s overwhelming, almost, the heavy bile that rises in Jinyoung’s stomach. He hates how he has to keep blinking to keep the tears from falling, he hates the ache in his chest. He hates how there were so many more complicated emotions within him, how  _ loathing  _ wasn’t the only emotion he felt for Park Jihoon. 

“Heard you were slacking on your training again.” Jinyoung says, voice mechanical as he gets up and leans on the ropes surrounding the platform. “Think you’re all that, huh?” 

Jihoon turns around fast, eyes zeroing on Jinyoung immediately. He gasps a little, shock written all over his face. “You.” 

“Bastard, you’re no superstar. Just a fucking fraud who loves to fight. No technique, all brash and instinct.” Jinyoung sneers, without missing a beat. “Disagree? Prove me wrong then.”    
  
“State of mind?” Jihoon asks flatly. “You’re crazy.”    
  
“Did you forget? We are the same.” Jinyoung steps one foot onto the platform, hoisting himself up and lifting the rope slightly to allow himself in. “Come here, you son of a bitch. Beat me like I deserve it. Show me how strong you are.” He smirks, crossing his arms. “Or have you lost all your will, too? You’re losing it all.”   
  
Taking his gloves off, Jihoon shakes his head at Jinyoung’s words. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”    
  
“Admit it, Hoon.” At the mention of his name, Jihoon stares at Jinyoung, eyes vacant and reading. “How does it feel?”    
  
“Fucking good,” Jihoon replies, all teeth in his smile. Jinyoung doesn’t need to say anything, to give any context, three years ago or now, for Jihoon to know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah? Standing here alone after leaving the ones who loved you? Feels good?”    
  
“Fine, I was selfish.” Jihoon picks his gloves up from where he laid them on the floor, folding the velcro. 

Jinyoung actually lets out a bark of laughter at that. “That’s not the word I’d use. I’m feeling more… Cowardly. You were a cowardly bitch.”    
  
“Is that all you want to say to me after three years? Just to show you’ve gone insane without me?” 

“Insane? I’ve just lost all faith in you, man. That’s why I’m telling you to prove me wrong, show me your power,  _ Ring King _ .” Jinyoung says the nickname teasingly, like it’s a joke, and that’s when Jihoon grows impatient. 

He charges at Jinyoung abandoning his gloves, cornering Jinyoung to the end of the ring. Jinyoung feels the roughness of the ropes against his back, but maintains eye-contact with Jihoon, gaze impassive. Jihoon raises his arm above his head, ready to strike, and a beat passes. Jihoon’s chest rises and falls quick, breath laboured from the adrenaline pumping in him. 

“Stop acting like you’re not scared, Bae Jinyoung.”    


“I’m not,  _ hyung _ . Why would I be, when hyung himself told me never to be scared of him? You haven’t forgotten, have you?” Jinyoung smirks, and Jihoon blinks back at him. “You’re the one who’s scared. Drop your trembling arm, hyung. Your posturing makes me want to puke.” 

Jihoon steps back, losing the tension in his arm like Jinyoung said. “You still read me like a magazine, I see. You’re still cute, Jinyoung-ah.” Jihoon smiles, gathering his gloves and peeling off his drenched shirt. Jinyoung quickly averts his eyes, and the older doesn’t comment on it. Jinyoung doesn’t look back at him until another shirt is worn. “Call me. Or I’ll text you? You haven’t changed your number, right?” 

Jinyoung pretends he isn’t gaping when Jihoon waves like they’re on good terms. He stands there, dumbfounded at the quick turn of events. He was ready for Jihoon’s fists to do the talking, but got something completely different. Well, Jihoon never failed to surprise him anyway. 

“Oh, and Jinyoung?” Jihoon calls when the younger is sure he’s already left the barn. “It’s great to see my favorite junior again.” 

  
  


(To be continued!)


End file.
